The Grand Canyon is not as I expected it to be. I don’t know how to explain that, but it is different. I suppose, that any location as famous as this, generates a certain concept, a picture, a visual expectation. I pictured a wide open tourist space. A strip of hotels. A commercial centre, buzzing with tourist traffic. It is not like that at all. Yes, there are hotels, or at least lodges, accomodation centres. Yes, there are tourists, and plenty of them, just like ourselves, hikers, cyclists, day-trippers, individuals, couples, groups and families. The whole village centre, (and I’m not sure that that correctly describes the oddly assorted gathering of buildings), is well hidden in low forestry. Even the railway, appears unexpectedly from around a bend and vanishes into the trees.

We hike the rim. Seven to eight miles along the canyon edge, gazing from varying angles, into the 5,000 foot chasm below. It is not straight, it turns and twists. It is not a single canyon, it has many branches. It is not a single depth, it sweeps down in some places and in others, it drops sheer. Every view is varied. Every view is interesting.

The track along the ridge occasionally moves out to the shuttle bus road, but mostly, it hugs the cliff edge. There is not much room for error, so it is quite amazing, the number of tourists who walk along. All ages, from elderly to small children. All happily strolling along. None seem too concerned about the gaping invitation to eternity, that sits inches from their feet.

Day two, and we hike downwards, into the canyon. It is not possible, (that’s not true, it is possible, but it goes against all warnings and advice), to hike down to the river and back in one day. Accommodation at the bottom has been booked out for months, so we content ourselves with a plan for a half way down return trip. A cool morning but once we get started, we get into the lee of the cliff and warm up nicely. The path is busy. Many people going down and many more returning, some from an overnight stay at the bottom.

A team of horses pass us, bring ten days supplies to the lodges below. We have lunch and chat with groups from all over the US, as well as from Germany, Poland and Australia. The return trip, though a constant climb, is lovely, until the last ten minutes, when sleet, rain and wind come driving in. We arrive at the lodge cold and wet. Nothing a hot coffee and warm blueberry muffin can’t fix. Done!

We’ve seen many canyons in the last week. The Grand is certainly the biggest. It is certainly impressive. But for me, the best by far, for it’s beauty, for it’s variety, for the best hiking, was Zion.